In the year X, the world was in a rare state of peace. Days passed slowly, and the wind danced through the trees, causing the leaves to drift down like soft confetti. The sky was an endless, perfect blue. Humanity had not known a moment of such tranquility in centuries. People lived their lives without fear, as though they were untouchable. It was as if the world itself was at rest, content and peaceful.

  But The Rogue, a young university student, did not share in the collective joy. Despite the serenity of the world around her, she was filled with an insatiable desire for something more — freedom. Her parents had always expected her to follow the traditional path, to become a doctor and live a safe, secure life. It was a life many would envy, but it was not the life she wanted.

  "Once I become a doctor and get rich, I’ll leave it all behind," she had promised herself, the words offering some comfort amid the tension she carried inside. She longed for a life outside of expectations, where she could live for herself, free of obligations.

  But the world was changing.

  It started subtly at first. The sky, once an unbroken blue, began to shift. Each passing day, it seemed a little less vibrant, a little more gray, tinged with an unnatural, ominous hue. Journalists, scientists, and anyone paying attention began to notice the change. They thought it was an anomaly, a strange phenomenon that would pass. But the reports kept coming — the sky was turning red.

  At first, no one was sure what it meant. Was it the result of a natural disaster? A strange atmospheric event? No one had the answers. The world didn’t panic; instead, it waited for an explanation. People continued on with their daily lives, pretending like everything was fine, despite the uneasy feeling that began to settle in their chests.

  But then, one evening, the smell of blood began to fill the air.

  At first, it was faint, something barely noticeable. A lingering, metallic scent, as if the world had been wounded. People started to talk about it in whispers. Some ignored it, chalking it up to their imagination. Others were disturbed, wondering where the smell could possibly be coming from. It spread slowly, faint but persistent.

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  By the third day, it became undeniable. The sky had turned an unnatural, blood-red color, and with it, the heavy, iron-like scent of blood hung in the air. The Rogue sat on her dorm room balcony, watching the unsettling hue fill the sky, wondering if this was the sign of something worse — something none of them had been prepared for.

  News outlets ran endless stories. Scientists scrambled for an explanation. Was it a freak occurrence in the atmosphere? Was it the product of some kind of pollution? No one had the answers, but the smell of blood only grew stronger, seeping into everything — into the streets, into people's homes, even their lungs. The Rogue couldn’t escape it.

  The reports from journalists grew more frantic by the day. Some suggested it was the end of the world; others tried to stay calm, but the growing panic was palpable. Governments were beginning to take notice, but they were as clueless as everyone else.

  Still, the world tried to go on with its usual routines. Students like The Rogue attended classes, thinking they could block out the fear. Doctors continued their work. People went to their jobs. But deep down, everyone could feel the unease creeping in, like the world was holding its breath.

  She had already felt like she was living in a world she didn’t belong in, but now, it felt like the world was starting to crumble around her. The freedom she sought—the escape from her parents’ expectations, the chance to work and earn enough to live on her own terms—seemed more distant now. Her dream was simple: finish school, get a job, and leave behind the obligations of her upbringing. To be truly free.

  But now, with the blood-red sky looming above her, it was clear the world was shifting into something darker, and no one seemed to know how to stop it.

  She looked up at the blood-red sky one last time as she sat on the balcony. Was this a warning?

  On the fourth day, something happened.

  It wasn’t big. It wasn’t an explosion or a catastrophe. But it was enough to send shockwaves through the already tense world. The first disappearance was reported. A well-known journalist, someone who had been covering the strange events for weeks, vanished without a trace.

  At first, people thought it was an accident. But when the second disappearance happened — and then the third — it became clear that something much more sinister was unfolding. The blood-red sky was not just a sign. It was the beginning of something far darker.

  The world was no longer in peace. The calm had been shattered, and the chaos was just beginning.

  The Rogue could feel it in her bones. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but one thing was clear: the life she had planned to escape from would never be the same. And freedom, the kind she had dreamed of, was slipping further and further away.

  The only question left was: What came next?